


Sick Days

by Shadows_echoes



Series: A Series of One-shots [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Other, so much fluff tho, with the tiniest bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 06:45:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16805530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadows_echoes/pseuds/Shadows_echoes
Summary: “Don’t give me that puppy dog face.”





	Sick Days

Connor had changed in many small ways since first becoming a deviant, that much was undeniable. Though, for the most part, the change wasn’t overly drastic. He was still the analytical, reticent, to-the-point android who you first fell in love with. Only now there were instances in which he would unabashedly show emotion without remorse or guilt. And you loved those moments, no matter what they were about, because it meant he was freely expressing himself.

Well, you loved those moments under other circumstances- less so when you are trying to get ready for work.

Connor still lies on the bed you shared, blankets draped over him and hair still a fluffy mess from the night before. In short, he was lounging -a concept you had to introduce to him in very small increments- as he propped himself up on an elbow to look at you. And, as you hurry around the room to find some clothes that aren’t pajamas, you make the fatal mistake of meeting his eyes. Or rather, looking in his general direction, really.

“No, no, no, don’t give me that puppy dog face. That’s not fair.”

You had hoped to sound stern, chiding, to immediately halt whatever he was planning, but your tone fell short. Connor could get away with pretty much anything with that look, and, much to your dismay, he knew it too.

As if in confusion, and with the fakest innocence you’d ever seen, the look intensifies so he is nothing but soft features, furrowed brows, big brown eyes, and something incredibly close to a pout.

“Oh, come on,” you whine, almost pleadingly. “How am I supposed to say no to that?”

The beginnings of a smirk pull at the corner of Connor’s lips but he is quick to reign it in. “You’re not.”

It’s the simplicity of the words that cause you to bite back your own grin in response.

“I’m going to be late,” you inform, a last-ditch effort.

Connor doesn’t look surprised in the slightest at the revelation. He is likely well aware of the time, after all. Hell, whenever he isn’t making you late, he is usually ushering you out the door to avoid that very problem.

“You could always stay and be very, very late,” he suggests pleasantly.

Surprise pushes your eyebrows nearly up to your hairline.

Connor was always working, and even when he could take time off, those days were few and far between. And aside from being a bit of a workaholic yourself, the two of you practically had opposite schedules. It was a rare thing to even have one day off together, let alone two. But those days, as rare as they were, were blissful in and of themselves and made you sickeningly happy.

Plastering on a look of offense and incredulousness, you gape at him. “Is the most advanced prototype, the greatest detective android there ever was, suggesting I lie and call in sick to work?”

It’s not like the concept was a foreign one, you’d suggested it half a dozen times yourself, but Connor is always so adamant about fulfilling his responsibilities and unfairly good at convincing you to attend to yours. Your latest response, however, is enough to crack his current façade of innocence. The puppy-eyes and pouting lips are replaced with a soft, amused smile and an entirely unrepentant expression.

“I might be.”

“Oh, well that does sound awfully tempting,” you admit, grinning as you walk towards him. It’s only once you’ve taken a seat on the bed and leaned over him -Connor falling onto his back as you do-, that you allow your eyes to narrow suspiciously. “But what’s the occasion?”

His hand finds your leg, tracing wonderful, invisible patterns there, and you wonder just how idle of an action it really is.

“Does there have to be one?”

“There’s always a reason with you, Connor,” you chuckle quietly.

It’s only for one brief, flickering moment, but his smile falters. Just a bit. The barest hint of despondency creeping into his eyes, there and gone again in a heartbeat.

It showed you his reason. It reminded you of the weight he carried, the heavy burden he refused to drop. Of what he had done before deviating, of what’s he done afterwards and what he’s failed to do since then. Of being restrained this time not by code but by the politics of it all, of having to be an example. It was gone just as quickly as it had come, but you saw it nonetheless.

You knew all too well that showing emotions, especially the less pretty ones, was a difficult thing to do. It was a process, even for those who had become comfortable showing everything else they felt.

A soft sigh passes your lips as you cup the side of his face with your hand, brushing a thumb over the skin above his cheekbone and the freckles that adorned it. “You don’t have to carry all that weight, Connor,” you remind. “Not anymore. At least not alone.”

Leaning into your touch, he looks up at you with a soft smile and something akin to wonder in his eyes. It was a much different look than the puppy eyes he’d given you. It was impossible to shake away or brush off, and you wondered if you would ever get used to being looked at with that kind of gentle adoration.

“Stay,” he asks again.

This time you can’t help the smile that works its way across your face.

“As long as you’ll have me.”

**Author's Note:**

> I needed some fluff in my life so I thought I'd try my hand at it.
> 
> Let me know what you thought?


End file.
